In Conclusion
by asherlockholmie
Summary: Sherlock is conducting another experiment on his boyfriend John while he sleeps, and finds himself more than a little bit too excited during his research. Fluffysmut.


**Title:** In Conclusion

**Summary: **Sherlock is conducting another experiment on his boyfriend John while he sleeps, and finds himself more than a little bit too excited during his research. Fluffysmut.

Sherlock wasn't being particularly careful or quiet when it came to entering John's room at night, not because he wasn't worried about waking him up, because oh he was, it was just that there was only so much a man could do while walking up the god-awful creaky stairs in 221B.

He was adorned in just a gray t-shirt and his usual pajama bottoms, though he had left his silk robe downstairs somewhere on the floor so that he could maneuver better while making observations, taking mental notes and deducing.

Sherlock grew closer and closer to John's slightly cracked bedroom door and noted that he could already hear John's heavy breathing. The right side of his mouth twitched upwards in a half smirk, for this was not an unusual occurrence; however the volume had increased since his last observation. Interesting. His mind went into over drive and he came up with twenty or so possible stress-induced events that had taken place since his last observation. He deleted the least likely ones which consisted of them being out of tea, John's sister-but he has not spoken to her recently?-irrelevant, deleted. It all came down to two events which Sherlock knew could very well be linked and the cause of his increased sleep activity.

These two events had taken place two days prior. Sherlock noted that although John and he had begun a relationship together, he had yet to do more than so much as kiss him on the lips; except that night. It had been cold out and they were very close together on the couch. Sherlock was screaming at the telly while John was smiling at him between typing another case up for his blog.

It was a commercial break, and Sherlock was kissing him. Although, this time it was different. He had started by placing a chaste kiss on John's mouth before ghosting his lips downwards towards his earlobe, taking the tiny bit of flesh in between his teeth and sucking on it for a few seconds while his sneaky fingers glided up John's thigh. Sherlock respected John's wishes to take it slow, but that didn't mean he couldn't give him a bit of encouragement. Apparently John had less experience than Sherlock, who despite Mycroft's snide comments and accusations had actually done quite a fair bit of experimental relations throughout college.

John was still a bit tense as he allowed Sherlock to lick and suck up and down his throat. He could feel his trousers getting tighter by the second and before he could even process what was happening Sherlock was straddling him and grinding their hips together, topping it all off with a heated kiss. Sherlock could feel John's want for him pressing up against his bum and he made extra effort to rub against it.

John grabbed Sherlock's shoulders and pushed him back, breaking the kiss that seemed to be lasting an eternity. They were both breathing heavily, Sherlock rested his head on John's shoulder and noticed John was shaking. He was trembling.

Sherlock lifted his head to look into John's half-lidded eyes, placing a hand on his cheek to offer some form of comfort.

"I want you John. I need to have you. I'll be gentle." He whispered, his one hand still resting on John's cheek while the other held one of John's unsteady hands.

"For now." He added before leaning in to place more kisses on John's neck.

He watched delightfully as hundreds of tiny goose bumps formed on John's visible skin at the base of his neck and up and down his arms.

"Wait, Sherlock."

Those were the two words that ended their heated session. Wait. _Wait._

Oh How Sherlock despised waiting. He saw it as a pointless, tedious task, but he would do it for John.

Later that night Sherlock snuck into John's room, his body getting the best of him as he attempted to seduce his shy lover just one more time. His actions were to no avail. Just as Sherlock slipped his hand down John's pants and began stroking John's smooth cock those dreadful words left John's lips once again.

"Wait, Sherlock."

He took another step, these events playing vividly in his mind as he became closer and closer to John's room.

Sherlock was not one to assume that the world revolved around him, however, he knew, he _felt,_ that this man in front of him, who was breathing more heavily by the second, considered Sherlock to be a pretty big part of his world as a whole. At least he hoped, had deduced.

His eyes darted over the sleeping man. His lips were slightly parted and his chest was rising and falling and Sherlock concluded that simply watching John sleep could be considered a form of torture. He always wanted so badly to reach out and place his hand on John's chest, to hold him still while he placed kisses and nibbles of reassurance all over his neck and torso. He wanted to slide his slender fingers underneath John's shirt and let his hands wander over the man's skin for as long as he pleased.

For someone like Sherlock, who was used to never biting his tongue and not doing what he pleased, and never _waiting,_ it was painful to be able to only watch the man that haunted him wherever he went.

Sherlock was busy making more observations, most of which were unchanged from last time he had watched John, heavy breathing, mumbling. He noticed John's nails were digging into the edge of his wooden bedframe and without mentally playing any plausible reactions from his flat mate in his head, he reached out and grabbed John's hand, immediately putting a stop to his nails digging into the wood so that he wouldn't hurt himself.

John was not only his boyfriend but his only friend, and he found that his one and only weakness was him. He would never let anything happen to John, and it is this very thought that crossed Sherlock's mind that would cause certain events to unravel, and looking back at the memory now he found that he would do everything exactly the same.

John, who's breathing had been horrendously erratic had been interrupted by a sudden intake of breath before he bolted upright into a sitting position, his hand still wrapped tenderly in Sherlock's fingers.

He eyed the hand that was currently holding his trembling digits and Sherlock felt smug when he noticed the sigh that escaped John's beautiful mouth.

"Sherlock." He stated in a relieved tone, his voice cracking.

He gave John's hand a squeeze; he had noticed that this act tends to invoke a sense of calmness, though he had no idea why. "You were dreaming. What were you dreaming about?" he questioned, deciding that he might as well continue his research as far as it would go even though his test subject was awake. Not to mention he already knew what John was dreaming about.

Sherlock had expected him to be silent for a few seconds before going into vivid detail of war flash backs; however, Sherlock was pleasantly surprised to find that John was avoiding his gaze, tugging his hand out of Sherlock's in a sort of timid fashion.

"John. Tell me what you were dreaming about." It was a command, and he didn't exactly mean for it to come out that way, it was just he was so bloody impatient while waiting for answers.

John had stiffened at the physical contact, but he didn't flinch away. Sherlock took this as an opportunity to grab both of John's wrists and press them gently into the mattress, his face inching closer and closer to John's before he brought his lips to John's ear and whispered "It's me isn't it."

At this John tried half-heartedly to pull his hands away, but Sherlock tightened his grip.

"I know it's me. I heard you say my name." He pressed on.

John seemed to be frozen with surprise, so Sherlock decided to take full advantage of this without startling his too-handsome-for-his-own-good boyfriend.

He released one of John's wrists and slid his hand over the bulge in his pajama pants. "And I can feel it." He said darkly before pressing down, emitting another intake of breath from John, who was still a little disoriented from waking up.

He began to massage John's obvious desire for him, basking in the sounds of his approval.

"Mmmmm Sherlock." He moaned as Sherlock's tongue darted from in between his lips to trail along his throat, sucking and nipping on the sensitive area beneath his jaw. He stopped his ministrations for a moment, breathing hot air on John's moist skin. John shuddered, growing harder with every second that passed, feeling the needy side of him start to take over every time Sherlock stroked him.

John managed to free his other hand fast enough to entangle his fingers in Sherlock's hair, maneuvering Sherlock's head so that he could press their lips together in a tender kiss. Their movements started out shy, their tongues getting used to the sensation of each other. It wasn't long before the once slow pattern turned into pure passion. John's hands were buried in Sherlock's dark locks, tugging at it as he wrapped one arm around Sherlock's torso and brought him closer.

Sherlock smirked into the kiss, loving this new eager side of John.

John eventually grew tired of Sherlock's intended torture before pulling away from him and throwing his legs over the bed. John's fingers slid under the hem of Sherlock's shirt as he leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Tired of waiting?" he asked, mischievously.

Sherlock froze, his breath hitching in his throat as the new information hit him.

John had been _teasing_ him.

The bastard.

John began pushing him back onto the bed, but Sherlock stopped him and instead he removed John's shirt, pushing him back down where, only moments before, he had been dreaming of something much less pg than this. Sherlock nestled in between his legs so that he and John's erections were painfully rubbing against each other. Sherlock captured John's lips in a heated kiss, pouring out all of his frustrations into it, grinding his hips roughly into John's.

The hand that was entangled in Sherlock's raven tresses gave a tug that indicated he wished for them to pull apart. Sherlock reluctantly stopped the kiss, staring down at the man beneath him in mild annoyance at the interruption.

"Have you been watching me-?" he began to ask, but Sherlock interrupted him like he always did since he almost always knew the question before it had been asked.

"Sleep. Yes. Irrelevant at this moment in time I would say." He finished quickly before pressing his lips back against John's, continuing their heated kiss from before.

The minutes ticked on and for a good while the detective never halted his actions, resting on his elbows above the doctor, pressing his lower body into John in a torturous pattern that John was starting to find quite painful. John's hands were resting on the side on Sherlock's neck, massaging tiny circles behind his ears, but he could absolutely not for the life of him deny that he wanted more, _needed_ more. As if on cue Sherlock gave another slow thrust of his hips before pulling away and burying his face in the crook on John's neck.

"John."

This time it was Sherlock's voice that cracked. He sounded frustrated, anxious, and out of breath, a combination that John found irresistible. John's hands traveled down Sherlock's slender frame until they grabbed his hips roughly and brought his own up to meet them.

"Sherlock." He answered, although this time his tone implied a sense of accomplishment, and a hint of _amusement._

He knew how he was affecting Sherlock. He knew how badly he wanted him and his attentions and it was painfully obvious and he loved it because that meant that all of his dreams held small truths in them, albeit none of those dreams could ever compare to actually seeing and feeling the detective on top of him, nor could any of the dreams do the sounds of Sherlock's labored breathing or suppressed moans any justice.

John worked one of his thighs in-between Sherlock's legs, pressing their lips back together as he slowly worked his way out from underneath Sherlock as he kissed the breath out of him, surreptitiously maneuvering them until they were lying side by side on John's twin sized bed, their legs entangled and their hands growing minds of their own.

Sherlock's hands were growing exceptionally bold and before John even had a sliver of a second to prepare himself Sherlock's palm was pressed painfully against John's need for him, his movements erratic, seemingly rushed even though John knew that was indeed not the case. However, if Sherlock didn't stop soon he knew it wouldn't be long until he was lying beside the detective, completely spent. John grabbed Sherlock roughly by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back so now it was the doctor who was in control. He grabbed Sherlock's wandering hand and held it in place on the side of Sherlock's head, taking a moment to simply observe what he had managed to do to the famous detective. Pieces of his dark hair were sticking to his forehead, his eyes were glassy, his lips parted as he failed to maintain a steady breathing pattern. For once he was the vulnerable one being deduced, and John couldn't help but smirk.

"What?" Sherlock asked in his usual annoyed fashion when he discovered there could be something he might have missed, and he despised missing things, particularly things that pertained to John, the person that he assumed he knew next to everything about.

John rolled his hips in response, placing a kiss on Sherlock's mouth before leaving a trail of them down the side of his neck, nibbling at his collar bone as he continued his decent. Sherlock's free hand placed itself at the back of John's head, massaging his hair in a way that gave John goose bumps. This time it was Sherlock's turn to smirk.

John continued to suck on Sherlock's skin, making a trail of marks down his chest and below his belly button. Sherlock looked down at John, trying to see if his body was imagining all this happen. But he was there, he saw him. He saw John's face. _Oh, God._ That face. His eyes seemed to be saying a million things at once, all of which were a mix of lust and John being a huge tease. John wet his bottom lip, finally ripping his gaze away from Sherlock's to focus on sliding off Sherlock's pants. Only when Sherlock was completely naked did John look back up at him, sending him a half smirk before grabbing a hold of Sherlock's erection and placing his mouth around just the head, sucking softly.

John was plenty of things, however, he wasn't a cruel man, so it wasn't long before he opted for taking as much as Sherlock into his mouth as he possibly could, twisting his hand around him at just the right time with just the right pressure. It wasn't that john had done this lots before, it was mainly because he was a man and he knew the exact amount of pressure and precise movements of the tongue that would drive him crazy, and god did he want to see Sherlock completely lose himself and topple over the edge of control. Sherlock's arms were at his sides, his hands forming into fists as he grabbed onto the bed sheets for dear life, his head tilted back, eyes rolling up into his head as the doctor, _his _doctor continued to pump his aching erection in and out of his mouth.

"Oh God John, h-homygod!" Sherlock's words became jumbled together as John finally managed to make the detective incoherent.

John quickly came to the conclusion that nothing was more of a turn on than looking up at Sherlock from this angle. His eyes scanned the detective's perfect porcelain stomach, up past his chest and his long delicious neck. However, it was the sheer expression of ecstasy on Sherlock's usually stoic features that made John's cock give a painful throb, causing him to moan, his mouth still surrounding Sherlock, who was clearly affected by the sound of John's vocal chords and the vibration it caused. He bucked up into John's mouth a bit, clearly still trying to control himself. Who could have deduced that John could do such remarkable things with that mouth of his?

Sherlock could feel his abdomen growing hot and felt a familiar twitching sensation.

"John, I'm-" but before he could finish his sentence the wet warmth that was surrounding him disappeared and it took everything in him not to groan in frustration.

Sherlock opened his eyes when he felt John's weight shift on the bed. He was reaching for the drawer on his bed side table and Sherlock instantly knew what he wanted.

He slid his nimble fingers across John's wrist before wrapping them around the bottle of lubrication and taking it from him.

John was on his back in seconds with Sherlock hovering over him pushing off his trousers until they were both naked and sweating and the sound of their labored breathing filled the room. Sherlock started marking John just as he had done to him, pulling John's legs against him, his thighs wrapped around Sherlock's slender waist. He coated three of his fingers with lube before giving John a naughty grin.

"Is this what you want John?" he asked before inserting one finger into him.

All of the breath John had in him was gone and he couldn't quite remember how to breathe.

Sherlock captured John's lips in another kiss before inserting another finger and it wasn't long until he had introduced the third and was pumping in and out of John, gladly making him a passionate mess. John let out a wanton moan that let Sherlock know he had found his prostate. He curled all three fingers, hitting that spot over and over again, his lips never leaving John's.

"Sherlock." John managed out after breaking the kiss, wrapping over arm around Sherlock's neck and holding him close.

Sherlock removed his fingers, placing the tip of his throbbing cock at John's entrance.

"or is this what you want?" Sherlock continued to tease him, one of his hands wrapping around John's leaking cock as he eased himself inside of him.

Sherlock began sliding his hand, still covered in lube, up and down. John grabbed roughly onto Sherlock's hips, urging him to continue. Sherlock's thrusts were slow at first, as he was still enjoying the sounds that were escaping his boyfriend's mouth.

He pumped faster and thrust harder and he could feel John's grip leave his hips before his fingers entangled themselves in his hair.

"Cum for me John." He ordered in that deep sensual voice of his and John could do nothing but lose himself, his cum coating Sherlock's hand just as Sherlock gave a few more frantic thrusts before collapsing against John's chest.

For a few moments they both just laid there, wrapped in each other's arms. Sherlock felt a familiar hardness against his stomach.

"John?" he looked up, stunned to say the least. He had just shagged John within an inch of his life not moments ago and he was already hard.

"Any chance you'd wanna go again?" John asked, still slightly out of breath.

"John, you really do continue to amaze me." He countered, capturing John's lips in yet another fiery kiss, signaling the start of a long night.


End file.
